


The Room of Oz

by Hatswithpompoms



Series: Inane RWBY Crack [3]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Crack, Fairy Tales of Remnant by EC Meyers, Humor, OOC, Ozpin’s Past Lives, Past Lives, The Infinite Man (RWBY), do not take this seriously, if you can call it that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-22 08:40:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30036009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatswithpompoms/pseuds/Hatswithpompoms
Summary: For like-minded souls the many lives of Ozma did not get along very well.In which all of Ozma’s lives find themselves in the same room, and it does not go well.
Relationships: Ozma & Oscar Pine, Ozma & Ozma (RWBY), Ozma & Ozpin (RWBY), Ozpin & His Past Lives, Ozpin & Oscar Pine
Series: Inane RWBY Crack [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2204700
Comments: 13
Kudos: 31





	1. Closet Psycho

**Author's Note:**

> Small spoiler warning for the fairy tales of remnant book, in particular the story of the infinite man. I’ve linked it here in case you’re curious: https://rwby.fandom.com/wiki/Fairy_Tales#The_Infinite_Man
> 
> Warning for slight mentions of self harm, in the form of slamming your head against the wall.

“Well,” Ozpin said, brushing himself off as he stood up and looked around the room, “This is certainly…” He took in the full extent of the room’s inhabitants. “…Odd.”

In one corner an elderly man, was curled up and mumbling to himself as he tapped his fingers on his knees. A little ways off a dark haired man sat up and looked frantically around the room. Ozma, the first one, Ozpin’s memory supplied.

“What the hell is this?” He asked, staring at the men who had begun to form small groups with those they were closest to.

“Your future.” A well-dressed white haired man deadpanned.

“Ozma 2 that wasn’t very polite.” The inventor approached from the other side, cleaning his glasses.

“Well it is a rather long story.” One with a moustache interrupted, when had they ever thought that was a good idea. “And he did put it quite succinctly.”

“He wasn’t joking!” Ozma 1 yelled, looking terrified and scarily like Oscar when he had first found out about this.

“Unfortunately he was not,” Ozpin decided to interject and place his hand on Ozma 1’s shoulder. “And that was rather blunt of you.” He added, glaring slightly at Ozma 2.

“I had to deal with _his_ psycho wife,” Ozma 2 exclaimed loudly, waving his hands.

At this Ozma 1 straightened up and shook Ozpin’s hand off his shoulder. “Salem is _not_ a psycho.”

“Not yet she’s not,” Ozma 2 retaliated. “But just you wait, you’ll see, you married a closet psycho.”

Ozma 1 glared and Ozpin sighed. He and the Inventor turned to where the old man still sat in the corner. Oscar was standing over him.

“Is he ok?” The boy asked.

“Withdrawal,” the Inventor said, sighing. Then he gestured to another figure who was face first on the floor. “Same with him.”

Ozpin observed him passively. “So he’s pre-maidens then?”

“Seems so,” the Inventor agreed.

There was a yell from the other side of the room. “It was not a cult!”

“It was to!” Another voice countered. “It was called the Circle! The Circle! That’s the cultiest name I ever heard!” A man dressed in plain clothes with thick rimming glasses was yelling at another, who was dressed in white with long dark dreadlocks that trailed on the ground.

“Not when I was alive!” The other retorted. Ozpin sighed and made his way over to them.

“How about we just agree it was a cult-like religion?” He said, placing his hands between them.

“It was not a religion!” The one with dreadlocks yelled. Ozpin groaned and put his head in his hands.

“You had _followers!”_ The other hissed, from where the inventor was holding him back. “They saw you as a _God_!”

“I never asked them to call me one.” The other replied, seething now. “I am only a man, and not a very good one.”

Oscar’s eyes had gone wide. “You’re the infinite man!” He exclaimed.

Ozpin wondered whether his reincarnation had suddenly lost all his intelligence. “So are you Oscar, we are all the infinite man.I would have thought it was obvious.” 

He rubbed his head sheepishly. “I meant he’s the one from the story. I loved that story as a kid.”

The two stopped their argument to turn to Oscar. “We’re in a story?” One questioned. 

He nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah,” then he looked sheepish again. “Although some people do paint you as a villain.” He pointed to the one with dreadlocks.

“Us,” Ozpin reminded him, realising that his newest incarnation was in fact an idiot. Oscar’s face fell at that.

“See!” One yelled. “Villian equals cult.”

The other shook his head vehemently. “It was not a cult!” After a moment he added. “And that was a terribly worded argument!” 

“And you would know. Cult leader!”

Ozpin was beginning to think they were all idiots.

“I don’t understand! Why would Salem kill her children,” Ozma 1 wailed. He was clutching on Ozma 2’s trousers, “And why would she have children with you and not me!?”

Ozma 2 grinned smugly. “That’ll teach you to die of the common cold and dump your soul and all its problems on me.” He shook him off his trouser leg. “Weakling.”

Ozpin turned away from them, walked over to the nearest wall – stepping over moustache man who was now scribbling on the floor frantically – and slammed his head into it. None of this was happening, none of this was real. He was just being slowly driven mad by his close proximity to a 14 year old’s thoughts.

He raised his head to look once more around the room, and hoped that it had all vanished.

It had not. Hermit and the alcoholic were clinging onto each other sobbing to each other about alcohol; Ozma 2 had left Ozma 1 sobbing on the floor to discuss fertilisers with Oscar; and the two cult arguers had finally progressed to physical violence. He turned back to the wall and slammed his head against it again. Forget hallucination, this was hell.


	2. Real Farmers Fight About Harvesting

Oscar’s yelling, and the bruise forming on his head, pulled Ozpin away from slamming his head on the wall and towards the young boy.

“What kind of farmer are you?!” He was yelling. “Why on earth would you use _that_ as fertiliser?!”

“You mean to tell me you use something else?” Ozma 2 shook his head. “And here I was thinking you were one of the better reincarnations.” He sighed. “Clearly not.”

Ozpin looked back over to the wall which he had been standing at for the last half hour and then back to Oscar. He rubbed the growing lump on his forehead and took a deep breath. He was a fully grown man who had been the headmaster of an entire school. He could deal with this in a better way than slamming his head against a wall. They couldn’t be worse than teenagers.

“It’s been centuries,” he interjected, putting a hand on Oscar’s shoulder, “I’m sure farming methods have changed in that time.”

“For the better,” Oscar said, at the same time as Ozma 2 yelled:

“For the worse!” And then they were arguing again, and he was pushed aside.

He glanced around. It seemed that at some point Ozma 1 had stopped wailing so loudly and had curled up on the floor to mutter to himself. On the other side of the room the two cultists had given up fighting and were now clinging to each other shouting about the woman with one eye. They had been joined by a third who was listening in quiet disbelief. Ozpin wondered how any of them had managed to keep Salem at bay for this long.

His gaze swept the room again and fell upon a rather large man dressed in fine clothing. The King of Vale, his memories supplied. He was sitting calmly in a corner, talking with some other past lives, one of which Ozpin recognised as the voice that had once been in his head.

“So,” the King was saying, “If I attack from the West we leave our camp vulnerable, but if I attack from the East, then we have to get through marshy ground.”

Ozpin’s predecessor shrugged. “Just blow them all up with the sword of destruction.”

Ozpin was really trying not to punch him, something he’d wanted to do since the grating voice had first spoken to him. He blamed him completely for the Beacon initiation. Pre-merge Ozpin would have never launched students off of a cliff, even if it did have several benefits. Ozpin shook his head. This man may have left a lasting scar on his sanity, but he was not going to hit him. He was not.

“And?” He had missed part of the conversation, and his predecessor was speaking again. “Why does that matter? It’d still be really cool to watch.”

Ozpin punched him.

“What the hell!?” He yelped, staring up at Ozpin.

“That was for my teaching reputation.” He said, before walking off in search of more reasonable company, before he did something worse than assault.

The Inventor was sitting by the two in alcohol withdrawal, trying to calm them down. “I thought you were the calm one?” He said with a smile as Ozpin made his way over.

“That was a… special case.” He glanced back to the small group in the corner. “It won’t happen again.”

“Well good,” the Inventor said, rubbing the old man’s back as he shook, “Because I’ve been meaning to discuss something with you.”

Ozpin raised an eyebrow in question, and settled himself on his cane. The inventor glanced down and smiled.

“I’m glad it has lasted.” He said, gesturing to the cane. “Although that is not what I wished to discuss. Do you happen to know how exactly we got here? Or why we are here? All at once?” Ozpin looked with him at the room around them.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “My memory is a little fuzzy on that aspect, perhaps Oscar will remember?” He turned to where Oscar had drawn his cane and was circling Ozma 2.

“Honestly,” he muttered as he ran to them to stop another fight, “All this over fertiliser.”

Oscar paused and lowered the cane so that he could inform him that: “This is actually about harvesting times.”

Ozma 2 stopped as well. “Nobody gets into fights about fertiliser.” He scoffed. “Idiot.”

Ozpin took a deep breath. “How about we don’t get into fights over anything.” He said, taking the cane out of Oscar’s hand. “And instead try to figure out how on earth this happened?”

Oscar turned around, harvesting times forgotten and told him, “Salem cast some kind of blue spell and shoved me in this room. You guys showed up soon after.” He said this all like he was telling them the weather.

“Salem!” Several voices shouted at once.

From the floor Ozma one wailed, “Salem! My love! My wife! The most wonderful, beautiful woman! Why did you do those horrible, awful things?!”

“Now look what you’ve done,” One of the cultists sighed. “You’ve set him off again.”

They all looked down at the first of them as he howled. No one spoke as they all shifted awkwardly, none of them knowing what to do or say. Then out of the blue Ozpin’s predecessor leapt forward and kicked his head, knocking Ozma 1 out and silencing him completely. Unfortunately, this set off an entirely new argument that was much louder than the previous noise.

“Everyone quiet!” The King yelled. “Let the small one finish.”

Oscar stared up at the massive man and nodded several times, backing up a little. “So er yeah, I mean there’s not much else to tell, she left a while ago, when Oz started banging his head against the wall.”

There was a moment of confusion before Oscar clarified that he meant Ozpin and then there was another clamour of voices, most of them attacking Oscar for not pointing this out sooner.

As much as he agreed that perhaps Oscar should have pointed their situation out sooner, Ozpin felt that he had to point something else out to them. “Salem was in this room, for several minutes, and not one of us noticed, and so I think we are all partially to blame for this situation.”

There was a second of silence and then…

“That woman was Salem!” Ozma 1 wailed, apparently no longer unconscious, “But she looked like such a monster!”

Ozpin put his face in his hands and sank to the ground. Hell, this was definitely hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there are two chapters now, which I didn't intend upon doing when I wrote it. However, I really enjoyed writing the first one, then someone asked about a second chapter, so here it is. I have no idea whether there will be another one, as this is just something I'm writing to cheer myself up.   
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated, thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> As inane and insane as this is I really enjoyed writing it. It was, like the other works in this series an idea that came to me and was then written because I had to get it out of my head.  
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated, hope you enjoyed!


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